guns
apiece in position, patiently waited the arrival of the geese. Several
flocks had been seen in the distance, and their strange cries were heard
on every side. While the men were on the move getting things ready, of
course none of the wary birds came within range. However, now that all
was quiet in the vicinity of the choicest feeding grounds, a few old
out-guards which appeared cautiously flying over, seemed to have
reported that nothing was to be seen but some patches of snow in the
nests. The Indians say that the geese mistake them, when dressed in
white, for lumps of snow. Soon after a great flock was seen coming with
the wind from the south directly toward them.

Old Ooseemeemou began to imitate the call of the geese, and throwing his
voice so that it seemed from the decoys, it appeared as if they in the
goose grass were saying, "Honk: Honk: Honk:" which the Indians say is
the goose language for "Food, food, food."

Ooseemeemou knew well how to imitate them, and so the great flock
understood it as the call from some of their fortunate companions, and
down they came with the wind passing in close range on the left-hand
side of the hunters. Bang: bang: bang! rang out the guns of the three
boys and of the four Indians, and five or six great geese tumbled to the
ground, some of them dead and others badly wounded. The startled,
frightened, surviving geese, that thought they were going to have such a
feast among their fellows, had only time to turn round and strive to
escape by rising up against the wind on the opposite sides of those dry
nests. This was what the clever Indians knew they would do, and so, as
they came within range, struggling against the wind, each hunter, white
and Indian, now used his second gun, and nearly as many more plump geese
dropped to the ground dead and wounded.

Now the fun began. There was a hasty springing out of the nests, and
every man and boy dashed off for his goose. The Indians were wary and
experienced, and so knew how to act; but our enthusiastic boys, in the
excitement of securing their first wild goose, recklessly rushed in to
the attack.

Alec was the first to come to grief. The old gander that he was
pursuing had a broken wing, but as his legs were all right he led him a
lively chase of several hundred yards. Then, seeing that he was being
overtaken, he stopped suddenly and, turning the well wing toward the
boy, awaited his coming. Alec, seeing him thus stan